Three times Shiro meant to say I love you and one he doesn't need to
by twilight-hp123
Summary: (But does it anyway) In which Shiro is pining and is quite blind and stubborn. But he learns. M for: suicide mention in the first chp, and mention of trauma and violence.
1. -2

**\- 2**

The first time he said it, he knew it was too late. The L curled on his tongue, and the _You_ had come to his lips in a whisper.

He'd meant to said it before. He should have. The air was compressed and dense. Humidity from his own blood made mist in his cell. He was breathing his own hurt.

Everything was pain. All the time, at every waking and sleeping hour of this cursed existence. He should be numb after all. He would be if it weren't for the recent loss of his arm... They had took his arm away! He had hoped… didn't know what at this point. It was in vain. But he'd wished that maybe, just maybe, when the witch realized he was not good enough, she would sacrifice him.

Shiro knew the pain of that confession alone, was too much for him to bear. But this last time had crossed a line.

Admitting this was a little better than to keep it bottled up.

He'd meant to get himself killed so many times in the arena. Not in a way that would make it obvious for it to raise suspicion.

They were silly things. Mistake any rookie could make and stuff that all his training and own surviving sense were completely against off. Letting himself stay in the stone floor too long after a beating. Grab that weapon that he wasn't really good at. At the end, what made him snap of it wasn't the confidence to ge back home. Maybe in the beginning. Now, he knew better.

But the faces of Matt, Sam, their family. How they needed them alive and as safe as he could get them… nothing else mattered.

Shiro's stump jerked and he grunted.

That was a lie. There were (one) people that he didn't let slip into his mind. Not even when he felt so close to giving it all up. But they lived on his edges and made it hard to breath.

He prefered to think of the Holts. It was safer. Better one broken promise than two.

Like this, the suicidal thoughts remained in check, their only anchor, his disease.

Now, embarrassed and weeping in his cell, his brain was completely gone with pain and Shiro left himself slip. His one hand covered his face, muffling the sound of snotty nose and closed his eyes.

The one he'd been blocking, locked like him in the cell of his chest finally got away and got a hold of his mind.

"Promise me you'll come back"

"Of course I'll come back, Keith"

"Promise it"

Shiro had laughed. That brat knew him too well to his own good.

He looked at his impervious face, infinit eyes of all that was night and what layed beyond. Suddenly he wasn't the gangly, sixteen year old he met anymore. The baby face remained, but seventeen looked good on him.

A tiny smirk at the side of Keith's mouth started to waver at Shiro's lack of actual response.

"I promise"

The next day, Shiro would leave to camp for the next four days and then, the fifth, to Kerberos.

This was going to be their last interaction. Until...

A knot in his throat clenched his pharynx, but Shiro pushed the words free.

"You need to promise me something too then." Keith's hair was getting long. "Remember what we talked. Finish pilot training. Make your dreams come true-"

"-not matter what" finished Keith, and smiled.

They hugged and Shiro thought to say it then. Keith had become his only friend and he was going to miss him. Shiro didn't have hope to come back anyway.

And still, something in him stopped him.

 _When I come back. He already knows it anyway._

Shiro let himself rejoice in that one vision. Delusion, he already knew. But there, grounded in Keith's arms, surrounded by warm, everything was possible.

Shiro left himself rejoice in that one vision. Delusion, he already knew. But there, grounded in Keith's arms, surrounded by warm, everything was possible.

 _I promised after all._

Laying on his cell, alone and cold of sweat, his empty eyes fixed on the dark hole of ceiling he muttered, broken, words that should have been said that last goodbye. There was no one there to hear them.


	2. -1

**-1**

The last few weeks had been incredibly hectic,

From landing in a fiery crush, waking up in a narrow bed, the smell of dust and _something else_ all around him; to going to go look (and find!) an alien robotic lion, to getting in the gist of a millenary war with purple aliens, to finally being in the cockpit of a huge alien ship, drifting through space…. Shiro was confident that these were now just daily stuff of this new life of his.

Now, Shiro was fully awake, looking into the abyss that was this unseen galaxy. He was so close to the glass, the window so tall and big, it felt as if he was hanging at the very precipice of the same universe.

Paladin of Voltron… He'd dreamed of this since he was a child. And yet.

He would be lying if he didn't acknowledge how terrified he was of space.

Year upon year of his life had passed by, wishing and working towards it, and now there was this unclenching hold in his chest, this spasm in his gut that came whenever he looked outside the ship.

Usually lasted just a second; never letting it get cosy in the cavern of his lungs. But it was enough to make him uncomfortable.

Still, nothing could beat the nightmares.

The amnesia hadn't stopped his brain from making up horrible images he couldn't yet totally comprehend but enough to fear the worst of: a first person combat, foreign blood entering through breath, mouth filled with -

He had to stop thinking about it.

Shiro sighed, and tried relaxing his stance with no avail.

Looking outside, upward, Shiro roamed the nebula above.

A hunger for knowledge that was stuck ghosted his eyes.

 _One step at a time. Can't afford going mad right now._

He would get over it and hopefully could start loving space again.

"Shiro"

His name echoed in the big room, cutting the silence and the buzzing of the fluorescent, tiny lights that made out the castle.

Shiro turned around, both arms stuck into each other, pressed in his chest. The clothes keith had lend him that first night felt smooth and covered some pretty gruesome marks very well. Again, he silently thanked his friend.

It'd been weeks since he landed on earth. Weeks since they arrived here. But some of that something else was still stuck on the fabric.

At the sight of Keith, the trace became stronger.

The boy was walking to him and shiro took notice, too late, at the worried look he was giving to him.

"Hello, Keith" and smiled.

The frown remained, if only a bit muted.

"It's late. Everything alright?"

"I'm- not bad. Does that work?"

Keith came closer till placing beside him and stared at the window.

The cosmic lights danced over his cheeks.

Shiro looked the other way. Long, into the distance, there was a beautiful constellation that reminded him of Ursa Minor.

"No, but it's fine. You don't have to be anything"

This drew a laugh out of Shiro.

Oh, Keith. how he'd missed him.

"Right. I do tho " _I'm a leader now_.

"Right now you do not have to" Keith kept his eyes glued to the never ending sky and Shiro tried to do the same. "Not here" And turned to look at him.

Like a lighthouse, Shiro heard what was being left unsaid and his breath hitched, warm spreading in his chest.

Right there was a quality in Keith's voice; a gentle, intimate haze that made Shiro burn.

This was it. A chance to say what, back on earth, he'd failed at.

This is it, Shiro. Say it.

He knew that, if he were to look at him, something would shatter. And Shiro wasn't sure of wanting that.

Shiro turned.

Keith had lifted a hand, but hesitation swam in his face. He thought it better and dropped it. His adam apple bobbed notoriously

Shiro's belly tugged.

Clearing his throat, he opened the mouth and the words made a mess of his tongue to the point of locking it.

Was this correct?

What good would it make?

Was it even correct to say it?

Shiro could feel that, what he felt on earth had changed and there was a tinge of something else there that Shiro was not sure how to place it. Or rather, I was not even sure it really existed.

All his shit could be clouding his senses. His thoughts.

There was a confusion that made no sense to him, and even when looking at Keith, looking for answers, he felt lost. Giddy.

Maybe he was filling those empty spaces between those three words with trauma and need, and Shiro was not going to mumble anything until he solved it.

No. He needed to be sure. Or it would ruin everything.

"I know. I appreciate that. You don't know how much"

Keith saw the confusion in his face, but smiled softly.

Getting closer, he raised his hand and placed it on Shiro's arm. The mechanic one.

There wasn't a flinch at the touch, at the temperature. And if he was unnerved by it, Keith didn't show it.

Shiro knew he wasn't tho. The familiarity in which's Keith had found him was the same if not more than before.

Shiro clenched his teeth and finally relaxed, returning the smile.

 _Not now. Not until I know for sure. Not until I know where it comes from._

Like a magnet, he put a hand to Keith's shoulder. They would be alright.

(His luck was running out.)


	3. 0

**0**

Incredibly enough, Shiro got another chance and this time he knew for sure that it was going to be his last.

What he felt, he knew now, wasn't from being touch deprived for a year in the hands of the Galra.

Or the need of comfort by being an absolute disaster. Torture did made him crave touch, and comfort. But now he knew enough to accept he didn't wanted just anyone's.

This hadn't made the realization less grave. Or less embarrassing.

Hell, he couldn't stop his heart from doing flips every time Keith was around him. It was sad, really. Still, he enjoyed, in his own masochist way, the nerves at the edge of his skin.

Right now, stranded in the middle of nowhere, he wanted to pamper him with tiny kisses, make sure he was safe and fine and alive. Feel the warmth of his skin under his thumbs, the slick of black hair between fingers. the smell of _something else_ in his mouth.

But he was dying. Of course he was.

He laughed out loud, the irony burning him alive.

Keith saved his life once again, but the galran witch had stuck him good and if he didn't died now, he would of the new nightmares she made sure to leave him with.

Shiro had never been such a mess.

He glanced at Keith, the fire uncovering the desperation, fear and sheer force of will that was staying him alive and awake.

"Keith,", he called, and the man looked at him. Eyes big, waiting.

How could have Shiro ever want to leave earth when he had midnight and galaxies dancing right under his nose; ready to be lost in. He smiled.

Keith laughed.

"What it is, you weirdo"

"Nothing… I-." _Do it. Let go_. "When you get back home, don't trash my collection of vinyl."

Keith rolled his eyes.

"That shitty collection does not serve me even to make money of it. And it doesn't matter because you'll be there to torture me with them"

It was Shiro's time to laugh. A searing pain pierced his ribs.

"They're- augh analog"

Keith grunted and Shiro tried to laugh again, to gasp the next.

"Stop, old-timer" Keith was closer now, voice low with concern and scold. Moving the hands to both shoulder and arm, Keith was trying to see the wound. "You'll hurt yourself more". He looked up and Shiro held his breath.

There. An entire universe to discover. Just not his,


	4. 1

**1**

Silence invaded Black's cockpit. He'd left Krolia, Keith and the space wolf sleeping on the makeshift room and was now looking through the glass that served as screen.

Drifting into space once more. This was getting repetitive, damn.

Shiro's mind was also silent. And the body, a harsher reality. This heart, a heavier burden than the one he'd left the physical world with.

Shiro wanted to cross his arms, but the sound of circuits sounded with nothing that accompanied him more than barely half a bicep,

he stopped doing it after the third time.

A piece he had never truly gained back finally filled him as he gazed through the stars.

He inhaled deep, took in the smell and felt his chest heave. Something else.

The soft sound of padding came and the slide of the cockpit's doors gave way to a sleepy but ready to fight Keith.

Besides from the air changing around him, Shiro didn't flinch and kept his eyes forward.

"I'm okay, Keith. You can come back to bed" he said, in the softest way is could muster.

Still, more padding and Keith's body placed beside him. Without looking, he said in a hush.

"I'm okay." And stayed.

Keith had grown a lot. Shiro's senses couldn't stop noticing this, even when he willed his eyes to not look.

They were shoulder to shoulder now, and in his permeable, under-armor bodysuit, Shiro felt heat when Keith's body swayed at the lion's fabric skimmed against his.

Shiro closed his eyes and breathed in deep.

So many things had passed. So many missed opportunities. So many wasted chances. The regret of his last time still burn a hole in him. He used to think there was so much at stake. So much to lose.

It had been too late for him when he saw what was missed.

A goodbye

a kiss

a hug

a life

He finally turned to Keith, and as if he had been waiting for him

(he always had, hasn't he?),

Keith spun slowly.

Shiro lifted a hand and the yearn finally met realization.

Shiro lifted a hand and the yearn finally met realization.

The thumb swept the curved of Keith's cheekbone and slid to the marred, burn scar. The heavy angle of Keith's jaw met palm, a feeling of resolution in the gesture, and Shiro felt him shiver.

One step ahead and the feel of Keith's thighs, the warmth of his belly, the strong of his chest, touched him everywhere.

Face to face, alone after what felt forever, the air between them barely held, only existing between their mouths.

Quiet, as if to not break their bubble, Shiro locked into Keith's eyes and let himself hope.

"Would you say it again, if you knew it was me?"

Keith lasted a second to understand and the frown of questions in his face dissolved into endearment. He mouthed them to him.

Their echo vibrated in Shiro's mind but this time, the quality of the sounds moved molecules.

Shiro was here. Back. And although he was still a mess, still struggled and was more lost than ever, he wasn't going to risk dying again before saying it.

With a sense of Deja Vu, the words curled his lips and muscle memory made them real.

"I love you too"


End file.
